


Tomb Raider: The Mask of Cabrakan

by tcmbraider



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Games)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcmbraider/pseuds/tcmbraider
Summary: When the possibility of acquiring a new artifact leads Lara Croft to discover an ancient network of assassins, she quickly finds herself in a race against time. With the brotherhood on her tail and the threat of a malignant deity destroying the world, she has to use every last ounce of her strength and wit to reclaim what is hers and ensure humanity's survival. / CLASSIC!TR.





	Tomb Raider: The Mask of Cabrakan

A/N: Before you begin reading this work of fiction, I'd like to make a quick note on the topic of romance. As of the drafting of this story, there is  _no romantic subplot planned_  (nor do I intend on introducing any potential 'love interests' into the story). Beyond the obvious, this also means that there will be no appearance of Kurtis Trent, no relationship troubles interfering with the main plot, and no "fan service" regarding any of the popular ships in the Classic!fandom.

You may message me if you'd like me to write a drabble about any of your favorite ships (I can't promise to deliver, but I'll certainly try!), but as for this particular story … the focus will be on Lara Croft alone.

Beyond this, I have slightly altered the archaeological facts to fit the narrative of this piece.

As always, I hope you'll enjoy this first chapter and that I'll see you again when I publish the next! Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcomed.

Have fun!

* * *

The sky had shifted to a dull grey long before Lara had set foot in Yucatán; slowly dissolving whatever remnants of autumn had survived the storm three weeks prior and casting the landscape into a mixture of silvery rain and shadows. Due to the questionable conditions, she'd made a point to leave her bike at the outer circumference of the rainforest — to be retrieved at a later point or left to rot, she hadn't decided yet. Hadn't bothered to  _care_.

Two days into her journey to Uxmal, she felt more than inclined to rip the entire place apart stone by bloody stone. With the constant drizzle and temperatures hovering somewhere between frosty and hypothermic, she hadn't felt anywhere near dry in close to a week, and though she'd managed to build a pathetically small fire the night before … she was almost certain her  _bones_  had frozen over. Never mind the ice running through her veins.

 _So much for the pleasant weather_ , Lara thought as she ducked behind a scattering of mossy stones.  _And the scenery_.

Not that she'd come for either of those, anyway. On top of the seasonal changes and holidays approaching, the archaeological site of Uxmal had recently closed for the public — guaranteeing not only a lack of curious onlookers but rather a decimated number of guards standing watch over the ruins. And the few that she'd encountered so far, well … she supposed they'd find themselves a little worse for wear a couple of hours from now.  _If_  they woke at all.

Which also wasn't  **her**  issue.

Inching around the southernmost edge of the so-called  _House of the Witch_ , Lara paused — lingering in the shadows as she strained to listen for any signs of trouble, any movement beyond her own ragged breathing. Though the rain provided the perfect cover for most of the sounds she made, there was no harm in being cautious; and very little sense in strutting toward the great pyramid without the proper precautions and equipment.

At least as far as the latter went, though, she couldn't exactly  _complain_. Beyond her standard arsenal of guns and throwing knives, Lara had also packed enough ammunition to take down an entire infantry of well-armed soldiers — not to mention the grenades and darts still buried at the bottom of her backpack. Although she couldn't say it was her  _favorite_  method of dealing with rodents, those would certainly work well  _enough_.

Then again, there really wasn't anything quite as viscerally satisfying as a punch to the face.

Ducking low behind an amassment of untamed grass and stone, Lara slowly began to edge out of her hiding spot — one arm angled behind and to the side, ready to reach for her guns if at all necessary, and one braced before her. The earth was less dense here, softened by the rain and humidity of the area, and though she'd tried … unless she felt like eating a mouthful of dirt, there would be no sprinting through the terrain. And no straying too far off the beaten path, either.

Fortunately for her, the conditions didn't exactly get in the way of her  _plans_. From what she'd seen on her way up, the convoy of mercenaries she'd encountered in Muna had been headed toward the southern pyramid at the opposite side of the park — not the  _House of Turtles_  that had been mentioned in the original texts, and the suspected network of hallways  _beneath_.

The goal of  _her_  expedition, and the only one of the eastern buildings not granted any particular public interest. Until now.

There was no immediate uproar as she slipped out of her hiding spot and into a scattering of weeds near the base of the building — no sounds beyond her own breathing, the gentle squeak of her boots as she crouched, and the murmur of voices a good seventy feet away. The mercenaries she could see looked just about as thrilled about the rain as she did, clad in midnight-black uniforms and hoods pulled deep into their grim faces; although she supposed it was one thing to be crawling through the dirt, and another to stand perfectly still. To have no understanding of where they were — of the history buried beneath their feet.

 _At least they're preoccupied_ , Lara thought, shifting onto her belly as she neared the edge of the grass. Judging by the number of mercenaries on the grounds and the amount she'd encountered earlier, they'd likely split into multiple parties along the way; whether to avoid being blindsided or to avoid  _her_ , however, she wasn't entirely sure. Didn't particularly care.

It had taken her three months to track the Claw down, two to retrieve the keys she needed — and one more to figure out the best way to access it. A haphazard group of well-armed men was not going to get in the way of her claiming her  _prize_.

Least of all one that looked as apathetic and inept as they did.

Holding her breath for a moment longer, Lara slowly began shimmying forward; careful not to disrupt the taut silence with anything more than a slip of the foot or the clacking of metal against metal, but quickly enough to cross to the nearest boulder without being spotted. Precautions aside, she certainly did not feel inclined to see just  _how_  long her ammunition would last. Just yet, anyway. Without knowing what sorts of nightmares might await her in the  _House of Turtles_.

Now within throwing distance of the southern pyramid, Lara didn't linger long. Squeezing past a rock formation due east of the governor's palace —and out of the mercenaries' direct line of sight—, she kept close to the outline of the plaza. The buildings here were among the most reconstructed, framing the ball court in their center to draw attention away from the more  _interesting_  secrets on the site — both written about and mostly disregarded. Not to mention the entrances to the labyrinth of hallways  **beneath**  the site.

All of which were, supposedly, underwater. Not much of a problem where she was concerned, but a mild inconvenience nonetheless — for as much as she trusted the aqua-lung she'd bought on her way to Yucatán, there was no guaranteeing the  _temperature_  would be anywhere near bearable. Nor that there would be any ledges to get out and warm up in-between dives.

 _Bigger issues for another time_ , Lara thought with no small amount of enthusiam, and edged closer to the outer perimeter of the plaza.  _There are always other options._

Not to mention the most pressing problem of them all: Making sure to keep the mercenaries as far away from the Claw as physically possible. With her underwater and the entrance just a stone-throw from the great pyramid …

Pressing her back against the cold, damp stone of the building behind her, Lara drew a single breath. There was no need to consider the possibilities of an ambush  _now_ , while the men were gathered at the base of the  _wrong_  mayan landmark, discussing the placement of grenades that would in no way disturb her or her plans. While she still had a long way to go just to  _find_  the supposed entrance in the  _Casa de las Tortugas_.

The very same building that, with its carved turtles and nondescript build, looked just about as unremarkable as an amassment of stone against the pyramids surrounding it. The perfect hiding place for something as valuable as the Claw.

 _Or_ , she added as she slipped into the dark interior,  _something much, much worse_.

Once she had confirmed that she was out of direct view of the men patrolling the grounds and the few guards that had yet to fall victim to their work ethic, Lara lit one of her few remaining flares. Only five more of them until she'd have to resort to makeshift torches or good old gunfire, but she doubted it could be helped at this point. If she wanted to get any closer to the Claw, in any case.  _Easy come, easy go_.

The moment she lifted the flare to the walls —its reddish light almost like blood against the damp, dark room— Lara spotted the inscriptions. The pictographs.

An entire mythos spread out over four walls and the ceiling, half destroyed by wind and weather but… legible. With the proper knowledge to fill the gaps between paragraphs, at the very least.

"Beware the wrath of Cabrakan," Lara murmured as she wandered toward the furthest wall, translating as she went. "For he is the son of  _Vucub-Caquix_ , lord of destruction and vengeance. In his wake, the earth shudders with fear. His presence alone may turn a god into sand, and men to dust. His ever-lasting hatred of peace shall divide the earth." She paused. "How pleasant."

Though only part of the story; and a dramatized version at that. Even the illustrations seemed awfully overstated, showing the god ripping apart the earth with his bare hands and villages encased in flame, humans begging for mercy… tornadoes carving up the land like oversized swords. Not quite the version she had come to know.

"Cabrakan was thwarted in his pursuits by  _Hunahpu_  and  _Xbalanque_." Keeping the flare extended, Lara glanced toward the outer edges of the relief. "Poisoned and buried alive, but… never fully defeated. Waiting for another opportunity to swallow the earth whole."

Certainly not the first time she'd read of deities hell-bent on destruction — but by far the only time she'd felt the earth murmur in response to her words. As if it had listened. Awakened.

Lara couldn't entirely help her answering shudder as she ventured past the illustrated history of Cabrakan and into the space beyond. From her point of view, there was very little that met the eye here; only bits of glittering gold in fissures, puddles of water in the corners of the room, and …  _wait. There_.

A pile of rubble against the far wall, unremarkable save for a few gemstones scattered throughout, resting beneath a pictograph of the mayan deity. Almost as though he had shaken the earth and left the debris there to warn whoever dared disturb this place —whoever dared wander into the depths of what lurked underneath the ground— to turn around and  _go_.

Fat chance, that. If Seth hadn't managed to dim her spirits,  _Cabrakan_  certainly wasn't going to either.

Which didn't mean that his involvement wasn't  _interesting_ , to say the least. When she had first started researching the Claw, the only gods mentioned by name had been  _Ah-Cancum_ and  _Ahau-Kin_  — neither of which seemed to be in any direct relation to Cabrakan and his mythos. Even the twin gods responsible for his death had been disregarded.

Or, more likely, swept under the carpet.

As she knelt to clear away the rubble and debris, Lara couldn't help but frown at the thought. Why remain quiet about the heroes who had  _vanquished_  the respective evil deity and, instead, build a temple just to commemorate the malignant god? Why issue a warning anyway?

The answer to the latter followed swifter than she could have possibly anticipated. Within the blink of an eye, the stones she'd pushed to one side to clear a path to what looked like a trapdoor beneath began to  _move_ , to  _slither_  — and had she not trained excessively after returning home from Egypt, she very likely would have felt the teeth in her skin before the animal even registered. Before she would have recognized that  _sound_ , like wet leather on stone.

She'd dropped the flare as she'd jumped back and away, but the beam illuminated enough of the black body and perfect, white teeth to know she didn't need it. Even her guns seemed an awful lot like toys in comparison to the serpent stretching out before her, seemingly growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Every curse floating through her mind.

If the mercenaries hadn't acknowledged her presence so far, they certainly were about to. Unless …

Foregoing her USPs for the throwing knives clipped to the back of her belt, Lara inched backward — one step, two, until the glowing green eyes of the serpent looked just a fraction of an inch smaller. At least it wasn't entirely impulsive, then.

Whether that was a good or bad thing though, she wasn't completely certain.

With its lower half curled into itself and its eyes fixed on her comparatively small body, the serpent almost seemed to take Lara in; consider her movements, her weight, her ragged breathing and quickened heartbeat. Definitely not a  _good_  sign, then.

Though not  _quite_  as bad as the slow, high-pitched hiss that followed.

Mindful to keep out of the thing's immediate radius, Lara raced through the mayan pantheon as swiftly as she could.  _Kukulcan_ , while depicted as a great serpent with an amassment of power, was said to have had a mostly positive influence on the world — and so did  _Quetzalcoatl_ , whose energy had supposedly shaped the world and brought life to earth.  _Hapikern_ , on the other hand—…

Before she managed to finish her train of thought, the serpent issued an earth-rattling shriek that nearly ripped the ground from under her feet. The first attack, a quick, undoubtedly  _lethal_  bite aimed at the wall just left of her, followed only seconds later.

Not nearly enough time to figure out  _which_  ancient beast she had managed to tick off, but plenty to avoid its grotesquely large teeth. For now, at least.

Giving ground as the serpent slashed at her feet, Lara palmed two of her throwing knives. With the descending darkness and general mobility of the beast, blindly aiming at its head or mouth would be nothing short of a waste of time; and as for the torso … well, she wasn't exactly keen on wasting her knives on  _that_ , either. Least of all considering how thick those scales looked.

Creative diversion it was, then.

Twirling her throwing knives in both hands, Lara rolled her shoulders — then, without so much as a glance to give away her intent, sprinted for the windowless left side of the room before flinging them in the general direction of the serpent.

Her knives expectedly went wide. The stone she grabbed from the pile at the far wall didn't.

She had barely hurled the rock at the creature's left eye that she reached for the next, dodging its tail with practiced efficiency as she went. Closer and closer, tossing pebble after bloody pebble as she ran, Lara moved in on the serpent. On the door beyond.

At least she wouldn't have to worry about the mercenaries if the thing was  _this_  intent on keeping intruders out.

A rather disconcerting realization when paired with the sudden calm it seemed to be falling into, the slight drowsiness with which it started to move, to  _growl_. Lara certainly hadn't given the beast's constant hissing much heed so far, hadn't really  _acknowledged_  it to begin with, but … it was almost as though something had shifted in its demeanor, in the pitch of its warning. As though it was growing tired of dealing with her — tired of  **warning**  her.

 _Well, that's always a good omen_ , Lara thought, dodging a feeble swipe of its tail with little more than a hop. Hadn't her guide in Egypt said something along those lines before everything had turned to shit?

A quick glance at the serpent was answer enough. Though it had closed its eyes —whether to protect them from her advances or in mere annoyance, she didn't feel comfortable to guess— there was something almost concerned about the way it focused on her. The way it lowered its head and swiped its tail over the cracked tiles and the trapdoor it had stood watch over for thousands of years. The way it angled its body to close off the main entrance.

Either it knew she wouldn't get out anyway and wasn't worth the trouble, or it was willing to wait for her to starve to death.  _Lovely_.

A low snarl echoed through the chamber as Lara bent to open the trapdoor, but the beast didn't shift — didn't so much as  _breathe_  as it cracked open an eye and watched her, still and solemn, while she grabbed her flare and held it into the depths below.

Running water was the first thing she saw. And though the light didn't penetrate much beyond the rushing waves, she could almost swear she saw the glittering sheen of emeralds on the walls, mother-of-pearl entwined among it, and …  _gold_. A massive, dazzling amount of gold shaped into flowers and petals and animals, reaching up the sides in a vortex of color and wealth. Beautiful, haunting, … and utterly unnerving.

There would have been no need to decorate a pathway if there was no one to see it. If its discovery hadn't been anticipated. And with the serpent seeming entirely disinclined to bother her, that could only mean there was something much  _deadlier_  down there; something that would make the first trap look like a walk in the park.

She'd know — whatever sort of nightmare she was about to discover, she'd likely already faced in one way or another. And then some.

Risking one last glance at the creature —which looked almost  _disturbingly_  content as it wrapped its body around the windowsills and pillars— Lara shifted to sit on the edge of the entrance, letting her feet dangle as she secured the discarded flare to her backpack. The current felt and sounded strong, possibly strong enough to pull her under, but the water didn't reach up to the ceiling. No need for the aqua-lung, then.

Lara didn't bother with any other precautions as she slipped into the darkness beneath her; didn't do much of  _anything_  beyond trying to stay afloat. If there was one thing experience had taught her, it would be that if there was a current this strong, odds were it would lead  _somewhere_. And as long as that  _somewhere_  wasn't at the end of a very sharp sword, she'd be better off letting the water carry her — to save her energy in case she wound up needing it. In case she wasn't alone down here.

Which wasn't exactly far out of the realm of possibilities, either. With the serpent up above and the warnings plastered onto the walls of the building, the illustrations of Cabrakan and the horrors he was said to have unleashed … Well, she'd be willing to bet good money that an oversized cobra wouldn't be the only surprise she was bound to uncover.

As the current carried her onward, Lara risked a glance at the decorations to either side of her; the gold and amethyst, the emerald hues reflecting the light of her flare, the gentle patches of mother-of-pearl twirled among them. The further down she went, the more illustrated they seemed to become: the gold almost shining brighter than before, the greens of the emeralds and amethysts slowly being replaced by rubies and crystals. Those certainly weren't locally sourced.

Which begged the question … how did they get down here in the first place? And— had the stream been part of the original construction or just a natural phenomenon?

Even half-submerged, the light of her flare didn't penetrate the inky-black water; and though she tried stretching her toes, Lara couldn't find any purchase on the slippery floor either. No natural deposit of sand and dirt, then. And, judging by the flowery imagery, not much of a  _secret_ , either.

Perhaps just a passageway built for the priests, then — or a treasury of sorts to hold their most cherished artifacts. Unless …

 _Unless_ , Lara thought as the current slowed to a barely noticeable flow,  _that was exactly what they were supposed to look like_.

Secret treasuries beneath the city, accessible only to those unafraid to get their feet wet. Quite frankly, the thought didn't sit well with her.

Though the water felt deeper now — _colder_ , even— the light of her flare barely managed to illuminate her immediate surroundings; not to mention what likely lay beyond. The decorated walls had been replaced by impenetrable darkness all around, reaching from one corner of the room to the other. It even  _smelled_  better than before, as though the lingering scent of decay had been exchanged for a more pleasing array of flowers and salts. Odd, even by her standards.

Moving due north, one hand stretched out to feel for any kind of ledge to pull herself up on, Lara scowled. Judging by the echo of the water alone, the room seemed impossibly grand — the pool too deep to even stand in, the ceiling nowhere within reach, and the walls … sloped, if her eyes were to be trusted. And, from the reflective properties, inlaid with even more mother-of-pearl imagery.

Wherever the hell the mayans had gotten  _that_  from.

Pulling herself up onto the first ledge she found, Lara quickly removed her flare from the latch on her backpack. While not a great source of light in a room of this size, at least it gave her the opportunity to see what lay directly in front of her: the brittle bones of critters that had died here decades ago; the rubble and gemstones that had come loose over the years; the torches, all of which in reasonable condition, that had somehow managed to survive the past thousand years and still rested in their respective receptacles.  _Impressive_.

Despite her awe, Lara didn't waste any time lighting the first one she came across — followed by the next, and the next, until the room was bathed in light, the flames reflected in the tiles on the wall and the golden altar visible at the far back. The colors alone were incredible, reds and greens and blues mixed with the inky black of the water and the veins of gold snaking across the black-tiled floor, but the craftsmanship… there were gems of all colors, all sizes, hidden between the mother-of-pearl and lines of gold, aquamarine like captured oceans, rubies the color of blood…

Gorgeous — absolutely  _breathtaking_. And just about the furthest thing from what she had imagined to find.

Had it not been for the altar, stained with what looked to be dried blood and scattered remnants of corn, she certainly wouldn't have found any connection to its mayan origins. Especially not considering the mostly maritime theme, the construction of the room, the secret  _passageway_ …

Lara was almost surprised to find another inscription here — a clear warning to intruders, snaking along the doorway just left of the altar. As though she might  _learn_.

Well, she supposed even gods were allowed a shred of  _hope_. No matter how useless it may have been.

"Here lies  _Ahau-Kin_ ," Lara murmured, one hand brushing against the inscription etched into the doorway — the gold lettering flaking off the second her skin brushed it. "Lord of the Underworld, Protector of Jaguars, God of the sun. May he rest in everlasting peace—…  _Huh_."

Frowning, Lara took a step back. If the Claw mentioned in the ancient texts had indeed been entombed with  _Ahau-Kin_ , if her assumptions had been correct after all, then why warn her of  _Cabrakan_ 's wrath? She certainly couldn't remember any connection between the gods.

 _Perhaps just an oddity, then_ , she thought; but gave the inscriptions another wary glance as she passed the altar and grabbed the nearest torch from its rack. There was no logical reason to warn intruders of the god of earthquakes — no reason to even  _mention_  him here. And the serpent…

 _That_  certainly shouldn't have been there. Not to protect Ahau-Kin, and most  _definitely_  not to protect the more malignant Cabrakan.

Unless, of course, keeping their gods safe hadn't been the objective to begin with.

Deciding to consider the greater implications of it at a later time, Lara stepped past the outer boundaries of the altar and into the doorway beyond. As bizarre as the whole issue may have been, there really was no point in mulling it over  _now_ , with the exit well and truly out of reach.

And the artifact closer than ever before.

If her sources were to be trusted, the Jaguar's Claw should be held in a secret compartment inside Ahau-Kin's sarcophagus — laid to rest with a god no one had mentioned ever  _dying_. Though one could easily surmise  _that_  had been due to the sudden disappearance of the culture at large, not the lack of a body to be mourned and buried. Not to mention the general absence of scriptures surrounding such rituals, or the question of whether one could  _truly_  bury a god without invoking his ever-lasting wrath.

Seth, at the very least, had been entirely verbal about his displeasure regarding the whole being-buried-alive-business. As irritating as that may have been.

Lifting the torch as the hallway started widening, Lara took a single, measured breath. Unlikely burial or no, there was something entirely disconcerting about the way the walls seemed to blend into the ceiling — cutting off the relief on her right and obstructing the view of a good half of the inscriptions. No more torches here, no more gemstones, no gold … and no more blaring warnings, either.

It was downright  _cozy_ , if one were to ignore the scattered remains of small critters on the ground. Even her clothes seemed to dry faster in here, their weight almost incomparable to how they'd felt upon climbing out of the water; and though there was no detectable breeze, her torch almost seemed to  _flicker_. Odd.

Lara was still contemplating the ifs and buts of it when she glimpsed the golden sheen of a mighty burial chamber at the end of the corridor.

And the ground suddenly gave.


End file.
